


Muscles Better, Nerves More

by Northisnotup



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Future Strap-On Technology, M/M, Other, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Round 2 - FIGHT, Strap-Ons, Strapping, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Nureyev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northisnotup/pseuds/Northisnotup
Summary: For the prompt "Stay. Please."Happy Horny on Main Monday's you guys.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 148





	Muscles Better, Nerves More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neveranygoodupthere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveranygoodupthere/gifts).



> A prompt from neveranygoodupthere on tumblr that was probably supposed to be angsty, but uh, this happened instead.
> 
> I blame Rox. Who, as always, is a bastion of patience and beta'd this for me.
> 
> While Peter does not use feminine coded language for his junk in this fic, he is not dysphoric and dysphoria is not something we explore within this. Take care and happy ficcing!

Nureyev’s hand slips from Juno’s waist, sweat slick between their bodies and he’s too close to bother replacing it and fixing their positions. He’s too set on working his hips in such a way his strap can thrust into Juno’s pliant body and light up every pulsing, aching hot nerve that lives between his legs.

This is his favourite strap, not just because of its shape or colour (lightly curved and a deep royal purple) but because every strap links into his subdermal implants a little differently, feels a little different, sparks pleasure in different ways. This one _feels_ like his cock. A natural extension of himself twitching and slick and making Juno hiccup high pitched, helpless noises he tries to hide by taking their duvet between his teeth. 

He knows he should pull back a bit, be gentler - Juno must be getting over sensitive and Nureyev is not being half as considerate as he should be. But since coming, Juno’s body is loose and relaxed for him, so damned easy to push and pull and use as roughly as he needs, and he _needs_ so very badly. Nureyev feels like he’s been close for an age, through Juno’s awful teasing and their hurried prep and hanging on with his fingernails once he slid in, determined to make Juno spill while inside of him, to feel him coming from the inside out. 

One particularly hard thrust echos through the room and Juno yelps, lifting his head from the blankets and flailing his arm back to grab at Nureyev’s arm.

“Just like that, oh my God, Nureyev, please - come on,” he begs beautifully when he is like this. Whatever nonsense he thinks Nureyev would like to hear spilling from his lips in a desperate plea to get what he wants. Little brat. 

Just like the very first moment he laid eyes on the man, Nureyev feels helpless against his demands, unable to do anything but to give in and give him what he wants. 

He uses the hand on Juno’s shoulder to yank him unceremoniously back onto his cock, rolls his hips forward to bury himself as deeply in Juno’s greedy clutch of a hole as he possibly can, and comes. 

The orgasms he has with a strap are like nothing else. Incomparable to coming from being eaten out, or from taking Juno inside of himself, front or back. Nureyev shivers, hearing himself moan, long and low as he continues to roll his hips forward automatically, drawing this feeling out as much as he can. Below him, Juno laughs breathlessly, and Nureyev hisses, not quite ready for the way his body pulses around the strap as he does.

“How are you so good at that?” Juno pants in time with the slow rocks of Nureyev’s hips against his ass, soft, almost hurt sounding exhalations. “God damn.” 

Not ready for speech, Nureyev hums, lowering his body to blanket Juno’s, skin sticking to sweat soaked skin. He presses a kiss into his damp hairline, nips gently at the curve of his ear as he feel’s Juno’s legs come up behind him, shapely calves pressing against his ass and locking him in position and can’t help but smile. 

“Juno,” he says, voice still rough, trying for a chiding tone and ending up somewhere around appreciative.

“Stay. Please?”

He shouldn’t. His throat is parched and Juno sounds much the same. His abs are beginning to ache, to say nothing of how sticky-wet he feels, front hole dripping freely down his thighs.

Nureyev groans, allowing the tension to leave his body and all but collapsing on top of Juno, sinking himself further into that welcoming heat. He hears Juno gasp and feels his body flutter tight around his strap, still linked into Nureyev’s own nerves.

Helpless. All the men in all the galaxy and he is helpless against _this_ one.

Before Nureyev can think, Juno’s bracing his elbows and knees against the mattress and bouncing his ass back, moving his hips in ways that, before meeting Juno Steel, Nureyev had sworn was cinematographic trickery on behalf of erotica actors. But no, he really can isolate the muscles in his core and glutes and rock himself back and forth on Nureyev’s strap without needing to move himself much at all. 

Fuck. 

Nureyev gasps, clenching down on nothing and fucking his hips forward on instinct alone, his core lighting up in a firework of _too-much-not-enough_ all at once.

Juno Steel is going to be the death of him and he is helpless against it.


End file.
